State Fayre arrived in Essex beneath blazing sunshine and cloudless skies, three days of unrelenting heat that somehow seemed perfectly suited to a festival built around americana, country, roots and classic rock. From the moment the gates opened until the final notes drifted across the showground on Sunday evening, there was a remarkable atmosphere: audiences singing every word, strangers dancing together, musicians visibly revelling in being on stage. Again and again throughout the weekend, artists returned to the same themes: love yourself, treasure live music, cherish the people around you, embrace joy. It became the soundtrack to the festival as much as any individual song.
Friday belonged to guitars.
Irish trio Kingfishr set the tone on the main stage with the irresistible sing-alongs of Vancouver, Killeagh and Caroline. Banjo, acoustic guitar, and pounding drums combined with Eddie Keogh’s deep, commanding voice, while the crowd clapped, danced, and sang beneath the afternoon sun. Everywhere there were hands raised in the air and smiles across faces sheltering wherever shade could be found.
Inside the Big Top, Max McNown demonstrated why his profile continues to grow. Marley proved effortlessly radio-friendly, while World Changed Me revealed a darker, more introspective side, its lower vocal and restrained arrangement allowing the emotional weight of the song to breathe. His acoustic playing remained forceful throughout, blending naturally with country-rock flourishes from the band.
Stephen Wilson Jr. delivered one of Friday’s earliest revelations. Opening with the atmospheric Mighty Beast, he surrounded his distinctive storytelling with swirling pedal steel, thunderous drums and distorted guitars that seemed permanently on the verge of breaking loose. His battered acoustic guitars, covered with family photographs, stickers, hearts, eagles and images of the Virgin Mary, felt like extensions of the songs themselves. Whether deconstructing perceptions of country music in Billy or playing the breakthrough Gary, Wilson Jr. combined poetic narratives with a dark, compelling intensity that made him one of the weekend’s most distinctive performers.
Then came the set that, for me, defined Friday.
The Black Crowes remain one of rock and roll’s great live bands. From the opening riff of Remedy, Chris Robinson barely stood still, dancing constantly while three guitars created immense, richly layered walls of sound. Their interplay was extraordinary: one guitar holding down the groove while another soared into blues-infused solos before seamlessly handing over to a third voice. Songs expanded and breathed, the arrangements opening and closing with complete confidence.
My Morning Song grew into an extended, hypnotic workout, its rolling rhythm supporting angelic backing vocals and sublime blues guitar. New song Pharmacy Chronicles sat comfortably beside classics, while Hard To Handle reminded everyone that few bands deliver groove quite like The Black Crowes. The emotional heart arrived with She Talks To Angels and the magnificent Thorn In My Pride, whose woozy keyboards, rhythmic harmonica, soaring guitar solos and audience participation produced one of the finest performances of the entire festival. Thirty-five years after I first saw them on the Shake Your Money Maker tour, they have lost none of their swagger or musical authority.
Kings of Leon brought Friday to its conclusion as darkness slowly replaced the heat of the day. Watching from the grandstand, with the nearly full moon hanging beside the illuminated Ferris wheel, felt like the perfect vantage point. On Call, Revelry, Pyro, Knocked Up and Use Somebody all became communal experiences as thousands sang every chorus back towards the stage. The scheduling was inspired: no competing performances, just one enormous audience focused entirely on the headliners while the sun disappeared beyond the horizon.
Saturday offered astonishing variety while somehow maintaining the same warmth of spirit.
Ava Hall opened the day for me in the Horizon tent with the appropriately titled Georgia Heat, before offering perhaps the weekend’s defining sentiment: “Do what you love. Do what you were born to do.” It proved to be an idea that resurfaced repeatedly over the following two days.
The Magic Numbers produced one of the weekend’s most uplifting performances. Opening with the beautifully understated Forever Lost, the band were soon bouncing around the stage, Michelle Stodart in particular radiating happiness as she smiled throughout the set. Their trademark harmonies remain utterly distinctive; the three voices intertwined so naturally that they often felt like another instrument altogether. During Love’s a Game, jangling guitars and thudding drums carried the song effortlessly into a joyful snippet of Curtis Mayfield’s People Get Ready, while Take a Chance added greater urgency through pulsing rhythms, Michelle’s buoyant bass playing and her harmonies floating above the band like another melodic layer. I See You, You See Me slowed the pace with heartbeat drums before gradually building into another clap-along, the audience responding to the band’s simple reminder to, “…remember to love each other because we all deserve that.” Then came one of those completely unexpected festival moments. A keyboard failure, dismissed with a laugh as “…heat gremlins,” led to an impromptu dedication to the absent Neil Young after the band spotted a fan wearing one of his T-shirts. Their spontaneous rendition of Harvest Moon was utterly gorgeous, the harmonies heavenly and perfectly suited to the late afternoon sunshine. Moments like this are why live music can never quite be replicated elsewhere.
When I reflect back on State Fayre, one artist who I repeatedly return to is Michelle Stodart. Her constant smiling, bouncing bass playing, glorious harmonies and obvious enjoyment represent one of the festival’s central themes: joy. So, she emerges in my mind as one of the symbolic figures of the weekend. She seemed to embody exactly what State Fayre was about: musicians visibly loving what they do.
Sierra Ferrell once again demonstrated why she has become one of americana’s most captivating live performers. Surrounded by a superb band, complete with matching hats, mandolin, fiddle, upright bass and a wonderfully battered Telecaster, she moved effortlessly between country, bluegrass and old-time traditions. Her voice possessed all the precision and character that have made her one of the genre’s defining contemporary artists, equally at home delivering the swagger of Dollar Bill Bar and the infectious rhythm of Money Train. The outstanding moment came with the breathtaking Don’t Let Your Deal Go Down, where delicate acoustic passages suddenly erupted into exhilarating bluegrass, driven by furious fiddle, mandolin, and stand-up bass. It was played with breathtaking precision but never lost its joyful spontaneity. Kicking Up Dust continued that momentum, its irresistible melody drawing another huge audience response and confirming Ferrell as one of the festival’s standout performers. Meanwhile, Barrett’s thoughtful songwriting created one of the day’s quieter but affecting performances on the Horizon stage.
Elvis Costello & The Imposters delivered a masterclass in catalogue and craftsmanship. Pump It Up exploded into life with relentless energy before classics including Watching The Detectives, Oliver’s Army and What’s So Funny ‘Bout Peace, Love and Understanding showcased a songwriter whose work has lost none of its urgency. Charlie Sexton’s guitar playing was consistently outstanding, while Costello’s humour and storytelling gave the performance the relaxed confidence of an artist completely comfortable in his own legacy. His seamless medley linking A Good Year For The Roses with Suspicious Minds and Always On My Mind became another unforgettable festival highlight.
Kip Moore packed the Big Top with an audience that knew every lyric. His smooth, low voice sat comfortably above bright electric guitars and chugging rhythms, while the band constantly shifted between quieter, reflective moments and surging country-rock crescendos. Crazy One More Time burst with energy before the hugely infectious Wild Ones had hands waving throughout the tent. Atmospheric keyboard textures made Flowers in December especially absorbing, while Heart’s Desire balanced moodier verses with soaring choruses and an outstanding keyboard solo. By the time Come and Get It arrived, complete with pounding keys, hypnotic guitar lines and irresistible hooks, the connection between band and audience was unmistakable. They looked as though they were enjoying every second as much as the fans were.
Jack Savoretti brought polished, summery rock to the main stage while Caroline Grace impressed with her soaring country vocals. Even Skunk Anansie’s blistering performance – stylistically distant from much of the festival – felt entirely at home thanks to Skin’s powerful message of inclusion and defence of creativity; she dedicated An Artist is An Artist, from the band’s most recent album, to anyone who has ever defended a stranger. Down near the stage, it was stunningly intense. Alanis Morissette closed Saturday with an energetic, emotionally charged set, marching relentlessly across the stage while delivering classics including Hand In My Pocket, Head Over Feet, You Learn and, inevitably, the huge audience sing-along to Ironic.
Sunday perhaps captured the heart of State Fayre better than any other day.
Elles Bailey delivered one of the defining performances of Sunday. Opening with the emphatic declaration of Can’t Take My Story Away, she immediately demonstrated why she remains one of Britain’s finest roots singers. Her voice was magnificent throughout; rich, soulful and wonderfully powerful, capable of cutting through the full band before dropping into quieter moments of warmth and intimacy. Growing Roots combined twanging guitars, bright keys, and effortless movement across the stage as Bailey danced and swayed with infectious enthusiasm, while her longtime friend Demi Marriner added beautifully-judged harmonies and acoustic guitar that enriched every arrangement. Their vocal interplay during Enjoy the Ride was a particular highlight, both performers smiling throughout, with the obvious chemistry that comes from years of friendship and shared stages. By the time Bailey reached the joyous Love Yourself, driven by vibrant brass, sustained keyboards and crashing drums, she had the entire tent in the palm of her hand. Between songs she reminded us that live music should be treasured before offering perhaps the festival’s defining message: “Remember, you are beautiful, unique, and the world needs you exactly as you are.” It perfectly captured everything State Fayre seemed to represent.
Buffalo Traffic Jam perhaps attracted the festival’s most devoted audience. The Big Top had filled long before the band appeared, leaving latecomers listening from outside the tent as hundreds of fans sang every word. Even from outside it was impossible not to become swept up in the atmosphere. Their wonderfully gruff lead vocal carried effortlessly beyond the canvas while songs such as Hanging on Hope inspired huge audience participation. The mandolin-driven Too Young To Die showcased the band’s musicianship, but it was the climactic Fool’s Gold that produced one of the defining moments of the weekend. Rolling drums, hands held high, people perched on shoulders and an enormous communal sing-along transformed the tent into something approaching a football terrace. Few artists inspired such complete devotion from their audience.
Mae Estes brought humour and classic country charm, and KT Tunstall’s infectious personality turned Black Horse and the Cherry Tree into another huge communal celebration. Later, Orville Peck brought theatrical flair to the Big Top without ever allowing style to overshadow substance. His glittering white Gretsch guitar, the finest instrument seen at the festival, was every bit as eye-catching as his trademark stage presence, but it was the remarkable depth of his voice that dominated the performance. Peck’s rich baritone carried enormous authority, equally convincing in the darker storytelling of The Curse of the Blackened Eye and the danceable energy of Lafayette. Throughout the set, shimmering pedal steel drifted around his vocals, creating cinematic textures that perfectly complemented his classic country phrasing. Dead of Night showcased the extraordinary resonance of his lower register before the exuberant Daytona Sand closed the set amid vigorous clapping and a huge audience response. Beneath the mask is one of contemporary country’s finest vocalists, and this performance only reinforced that reputation.
Dylan Gossett’s understated sincerity also resonated deeply. Speaking about recording his first songs alone on a laptop before finding himself performing before thousands at State Fayre, he embodied the festival’s celebration of emerging talent. His gratitude towards the audience felt completely genuine.
The Counting Crows delivered one of the weekend’s most accomplished headline performances. Every arrangement was beautifully judged, built around the space between instruments as much as the notes themselves. Mr Jones naturally prompted huge audience participation, but it was the sprawling beauty of Round Here and the emotional resonance of A Long December that truly demonstrated why these songs continue to endure. Adam Duritz balanced theatrical storytelling with moments of remarkable vulnerability, while the band moved effortlessly between subtle restraint and overwhelming crescendos.
Leah Blevins closed my weekend in the Horizon tent with one of Sunday’s most quietly impressive performances. Her rich Kentucky country voice filled the tent with remarkable control, particularly on Digging in the Coal, where flowing acoustic guitar supported an impassioned vocal that rose effortlessly into the upper register. Be Careful Throwing Stones, inspired by the dreamlike songwriting of Stevie Nicks, revealed another side of her writing, while songs such as All Dressed Up and Lonely demonstrated both lyrical warmth and classic country phrasing. She may not yet command the crowds of some of the weekend’s headline names, but on this evidence she surely will before too long.
Finally, came The Lumineers.
As the sun slowly disappeared beneath orange and pink skies, they provided the perfect conclusion to the festival. Wesley Schultz repeatedly ventured onto the runway extending into the audience, high-fiving fans and transforming an already intimate show into something even more communal. Angela, Ho Hey, Brightside, Sleep On The Floor and Gloria became enormous shared sing-alongs, while quieter moments such as Leader of the Landslide seemed almost suspended in time. During Big Parade, each band member stepped forward to sing a verse in turn, introducing themselves through music before the crowd answered with deafening applause.
It was impossible not to look around and see exactly what State Fayre had become over those three remarkable days. Thousands of people gathered beneath relentless sunshine simply to celebrate live music together. Artist after artist spoke about kindness, community, gratitude and finding joy, and those messages never felt rehearsed or forced. They felt entirely authentic.
There were superb performances throughout the weekend: The Black Crowes, Elles Bailey, The Counting Crows, Elvis Costello, The Lumineers, and so many others all delivered memorable sets, but perhaps the greatest success belonged to the festival itself. In a world that often feels increasingly divided, State Fayre created a place where music brought people together, where strangers became choirs, where every chorus was sung a little louder than the last, and where, for one glorious heatwave weekend, joy genuinely felt like the headline act. Artist after artist spoke about loving yourself, loving one another, treasuring live music and finding joy. By Sunday evening, those ideas no longer felt like passing between-song remarks; they had become the defining spirit of State Fayre itself.
